


The gift of rain

by shinymathom



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 22:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20517683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinymathom/pseuds/shinymathom
Summary: Crowley doesn't want his angel pestered.A ficlet for Ineffable Husbands week, day 2. The prompt was Rain.





	The gift of rain

Crowley was draped across the couch in a corner of A.Z. Fell & Co, watching as the rain came down as if it had a personal vendetta against one of Aziraphale's neighbors. The man had been coming into the shop frequently to pester Aziraphale into parting with some book or another, Crowley hadn't paid attention to that bit, and Aziraphale was nearly ready to snap at him. 

He watched as the wind blew the man's umbrella inside out, dousing his face and carefully coiffed hair with cold rain water. The man gave a huff of frustration and turned back the way he had come, sodden and defeated. A smirk appeared on Crowley's lips. 

"Thank you, my dear." 

Crowley startled. He thought Aziraphale was in the back room making more tea for the two of them. "I really didn't have the patience for Mr. Hollingsworth today." 

"Should have had a better umbrella," Crowley mumbled. He hadn't meant for the angel to notice his would-be customer's sudden change of plans. He simply didn't want to be interrupted, especially by someone who would put his angel in a foul mood. 

He turned to look at Aziraphale, who gifted him a small smile and a saucer and cup full of fresh tea. Crowley accepted both without comment. He tried to ignore the warmth spreading in his chest when his fingers made contact with the angel's in a way that he hoped was interpreted as accidental. 

Crowley had fallen into the habit of stealing innocent touches. Fingers brushing alongside a teacup. A drunken stumble against his friend's side. A conspiratorial whisper, hand cupping an ear. He didn't think Aziraphale had noticed, so he continued taking what he could get.

Aziraphale hummed knowingly. Crowley turned to discard his saucer on the side table and felt a warm weight on his shoulder. The saucer clattered against the wooden surface, louder than he expected. Crowley stopped moving. If he moved, Aziraphale might notice that he'd rested his hand on him and not the couch. He looked back out the window, trying his very damnedest to appear nonchalant. 

"It's dreadful out there, isn't it?" Aziraphale squeezed his shoulder and Crowley couldn't seem to find the words to make a coherent sentence. He made a few attempts, nonetheless. "I mean of course it is. You don't do things by halves." As if on cue, a flash of lightning sizzled across the sky. 

"I'll close the shop early, then, and we'll enjoy our tea." The angel stood behind him for another moment, hand still upon his shoulder, presumably watching the storm pelting the unlucky pedestrians. It was a very long moment, and Crowley was nearly ready to ask the angel if something was wrong when he felt a warm press against the top of his head. It lingered just a moment, a press of lips and nose, a rather deep inhale, and then it was gone.

And so was the hand from his shoulder. He shot up from the couch and rounded it to face Aziraphale, pulling power up from Hell to lock the shop doors as he went. "Angel. Did you just... smell me?"

"I.. may have." Aziraphale clasped his hands together in front of himself, cheeks pinking in a way that Crowley refused to classify as "cute."

"May I ask why?" Crowley hoped, but he would never be the one to say so.

"My dear, I think you know why." 

"Enlighten me." Please, he didn't say.

"It's for the same reason I kissed you." He knew, of course, why people generally kissed one another. He also knew that the two of them were not people. "You know how fond of you I am, dear boy. I thought perhaps it was time to start expressing it more... um."

He faltered then, as Crowley took hold of both of his hands. "Is it okay if I kiss you, angel?" Crowley willed his hands not to tremble as he moved closer to Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale let go of one hand and Crowley felt his heart drop into his feet. The angel reached up and plucked the sunglasses from his face and tossed them onto the table. He looked up into Crowley's eyes and smiled sweetly. 

"Oh, I insist that you do."

The rain outside pounded against the skylight above them louder than before, but neither of them noticed.

**Author's Note:**

> Please accept this for the self-indulgent nonsense it is.


End file.
